


Tour of the Kitchen

by Sinistretoile



Series: The Pieces of Pine [5]
Category: The Night Manager (TV), The Night Manager - Jean Le Carré
Genre: Episode 2, F/M, Fucking, Kitchen Sex, Non-Graphic Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stranger Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6196624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinistretoile/pseuds/Sinistretoile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Quince, aka Jonathan Pine, gives a lovely tourist a tour of the kitchen</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tour of the Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> After Jack Lyndon in Devon. Before the Roper and his party arrives.

Thomas had stood on the beach, looking up into the cheerful lights of the restaurant when he wasn’t cooking. The trio of girls had been there since well before sunset, laughing and drinking. About his third cigarette, he noticed the girl that kept moving away from the table. She’d take her drink and come down to the railing and look out over the water.  
He hadn’t realized he’d been staring this time. Until she looked at him. She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear coquettishly then pushed off the railing and disappeared into the dancing couples. He startled when he heard her voice behind him.  
“See something you like?”  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”  
“Yes you did.” She plucked the cigarette from his fingers and brought it to her lips, tasting his mouth on the scorched end. He watched her drew in a lungful of smoke then let it roll from her mouth like a red-lipped dragon. He swallowed. “Most girls would find it creepy being stared at for as long as you’ve stared at me tonight.” She handed him back the cigarette.  
“My apologies, miss. I should get back to the kitchen.”  
“English?”  
“Yes, miss.”  
“Thank god. I didn’t want to be wrong and you think I’m ethnocentric.”  
“You’re American.”  
“Yes, is it that painfully obvious?” He laughed, thankful he had little to no risk of being recognized. He brought the cigarette to his mouth, tasting her as she had him. He had the desire to tip her head back and truly taste her. “Piper.” She held out her hand.  
“Thomas.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. She smelt like lilacs and salt and ozone with a faint undertone of suntan oil.  
She flicked a glance at his chef’s whites. “Are you the cook?”  
“One of them.” He gestured toward the door behind her. “That’s my kitchen.”  
“Right off the beach. That must be the life.”  
He grinned and looked down. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it into the sand. He glanced up at the dining area. “Are you and your friends staying much longer?”  
So he had been watching her. “I’m not sure. They arranged this.”  
He couldn’t explain or justify his actions. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the kitchen. As the door swung shut, he spun her around and pushed her ass against the table. His mouth covered hers. He held her jaw as she began unbuttoning his jacket. She needed to touch his skin. As soon as her hands touched the shirt underneath, she pulled it free of his trousers and shoved her hands under the thin fabric.  
He fumbled with her skirt, bunching it up in his hands. Her thong divided the cleft of her cunt. He grinned against her mouth and twisted the fabric, teasing it against her clit. She gasped. His grin didn’t falter as he nipped her bottom lip.  
“Do you do this often?”  
“What’s that?”  
“Fuck tourists?”  
“No, Piper. You’re the exception.” He spun her around and flipped her skirt up, exposing her ass. He crouched, drawing the thong down her legs. She stepped out and he pocketed them. A lick of his fingers and they were teasing her clit.  
Thomas urged her feet apart with his shoe then untied his trousers. He glanced at the door as voices passed. Shadows flickered in the window but no one came in. He positioned himself at her entrance, stroking his long shaft to full length. He could see her distorted reflection in the hanging stainless steel pans. She bit her lip in anticipation. He swallowed and pushed forward and up, pulling her back and onto his cock.  
She cried out then quickly covered her mouth as he hushed her. Thomas reached around her hand pulled the dress down, exposing her breasts. He latched on to her breast as he began to move. His open mouth pressed to her hair. She whined into her hand and he shushed her, kissing her ear.  
“You wouldn’t want me to lose my job now, would you?” She shook her head. “Good, that’s a good girl. I couldn’t fuck you in the kitchen the next time you come, now could I then?” She shook her head again. He’d whispered the words but they sounded so loud in the silent kitchen.  
They fell into a rhythm, him rutting against her as she pushed back onto him. She slapped her hand on the metal table, crying out into her hand as his hard, deep thrusts hit her sweet spot just right and his fingers on her clit made her cum in a shuddering rush. He mouthed her bare shoulder, groaning as he came.  
Thomas withdrew and tucked his softening cock into his trousers then fixed her skirt before turning her around. They kissed languidly in the afterglow of their fucking as they both buttoned his jacket. The door swung open and they froze.  
A throat cleared. “Sorry to interrupt, Thomas. Table four wants more mussles.”  
“Coming right up.” He answered over his shoulder then turned to her and spoke loud enough for the waiter to hear. “I hope you enjoyed your tour of the kitchen, but I really must get back to work.”  
“Oh of course, of course. Again, everything was divine.” She hurried past the waiter, catching his cheeky smirk. She sat down at the table and crossed her legs. Only then did she realize he still had her thong.


End file.
